


The Tangled Webs We Weave

by theLilyBird



Category: Borderlands
Genre: AU - Omegaverse, AU - Single Dad, Alpha!Jack, Alpha!Vaughn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega!Rhys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLilyBird/pseuds/theLilyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...His father skipped out, I couldn’t get a sitter in time, and I don’t get weekends off. You see the dilemma,” Rhys says.</p><p>AU where Rhys is a single father| Jack's not a major asshole | Angel's a little kid| and Rhys is Jack's PA</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gregory is an Asshole

**Author's Note:**

> I'm stupidly bad a summaries. Like it's not even funny. So if you read the summary and still opened this up, thank you! Your trust in me will hopefully be rewarded! I want to say thank you in advance for any and all comments, I love you all dearly. And it's rated Explicit for a later chapter. Also, fair warning, I listen to Close by Nick Jonas ft. Tove Lo while writing most of this so yeah. It's not really slow burn. It's more Push and Pull.

“Gregory you  _ promised _ ! I don’t care if you’re busy! You promised Symon and you’re not going to flake again!” Rhys shouts into his comm.

 

It’s quiet for a minute. Greg sighs. “Look, Rhys. I know what I said. I just can’t today. Maybe next weekend.”

 

“That’s what you said last weekend! You know what? Fine. Go off and do whatever you have to do. Stupid knothead,” Rhys snarls, hanging up before Greg can respond. He sighs and rubs at his temples. He knows he can’t find a sitter on such short notice. Symon will just have to come into work with him. 

 

As if on cue the seven year old boy emerges from his room, wearing a grin and his overstuffed Handsome Jack backpack--little Jack heads covered the yellow bag. He looks up at Rhys and he knows there’s a question he’s not going to be able to answer in a good way. “Mommy, where’s daddy?”

 

Rhys sighs and moves to scoop his son up into his arms. “He’s not coming, love.”--Symon’s grin falters and Rhys feels terrible--“ _ But _ you can come into work with me today. Sounds fun, right?”

 

The look in Symon’s big brown eyes behind the square lenses of his glasses is sad, but the kid has learned how to handle disappointment. He nods as Rhys sets him down.

 

“Now go get some of your toys--the  _ quiet  _ ones--and mommy will take you to work,” Rhys says, ushering his son back in the direction of his bedroom. Symon--the little gift he is--does as he’s told without protest.

 

Over the course of the nine years Rhys has known Greg he’s learned to take everything the other man says with grain of salt--a whole bottle, really. Rhys is never surprised when Greg fails to pick Symon up on the weekends for their scheduled father son time. It never gets any easier to explain to the boy, but he’s beginning to learn not to trust his father either. Which is the saddest part of the whole ordeal in Rhys’ opinion.

 

Symon reemerges from his room with the same backpack--now filled with toys instead of clothes--and offers his hand to Rhys. When Rhys takes his hand, Symon smiles. “I know daddy doesn’t always do what he promises, but he still loves us,” he says.

 

Rhys has to resist the urge to scoff. Greg had never really loved Rhys and he’s obviously not too loving of his son either. Instead of answering, Rhys picks up Symon and settles him on his hip before snatching up his own things and heading out the door to his work.

 

***

 

Rhys settles Symon on the floor beside his desk and makes him promise not to go anywhere. Symon nods and starts to unpack his toys, leaving Rhys to his work.

 

When Handsome Jack moves past his desk he almost misses the miniature Rhys on the floor. “Hey, cupcake, you wanna explain to me why there’s a kid in here? I didn’t realize it was bring your kid to work day,” Jack says, eyes on the child and not Rhys.

 

“There is no ‘bring your kid to work day’. His father skipped out, I couldn’t get a sitter in time, and I don’t get weekends off. You see the dilemma,” Rhys says, holding out a mug of coffee to the alpha without looking at him.

 

Jack takes the mug, but doesn’t take his eyes off the child. “Cute kid. Looks a lot like you.”

 

Rhys’ attention shoots up to Jack, but the contemplative look on the alpha’s face isn’t what he expects. “Uh, Symon,” Rhys says, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Say hello to Jack, love.”

 

Symon seems to notice Jack for the first time and he rises quickly, holding his hand out. “Mr. Handsome Jack,” he says, obviously starstruck. Symon’s adoration of Handsome Jack rivals Rhys’ own.

 

“Symon,” Jack says, shaking the young boy’s hand with a slight smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Nice to meet you, kid.” Jack releases Symon’s hand and turns his attention to Rhys.

 

“Didn’t realize you had children,” he says.

 

“Just Symon.”

 

The boy in question returns to his toys, giving Jack the occasional glance.

 

“Maybe I should make a bring your kid to work day,” Jack says idly. “Could be fun.” He doesn’t give Rhys much opportunity to respond before heading off to his desk.

 

Being Jack’s personal assistant, Rhys has learned how to handle and read the alpha. He’s been working for the older man for almost three years and in that time he’s become something of an advisor. Jack would ask him a question--some trivial others not so much--and Rhys would answer. More often than not, Jack takes his advice.

 

Working for Jack directly brings in a healthy salary that allows him to take care of Symon completely on his own. He only allows Greg to see Symon because the other man asked, not because he needs him. Though he is considering cutting Greg out of the picture completely. All he does is bring disappointment.

 

“Hey, kitten, where’re those reports I asked for yesterday?” Jack asks, shaking Rhys from his reverie.

 

Without a word, he rises, collects the reports, and heads over to Jack’s desk. He hands them off silently and just as he’s about to head back to his desk, Jack stops him.

 

“So, you’re his mother?” Jack questions.

 

Rhys turns back to Jack. “Yes. I gave birth to him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“So his father…?”

 

“Is an alpha and barely in the picture. What’s with all the sudden personal questions, Jack?” Rhys eyes the other man suspiciously. He’d never known the alpha to do anything without reason.

 

Jack just stares past him for a minute--eyes on nothing of import. “You bringing him in again tomorrow?”

 

Rhys cocks a brow. “ _ No _ . I’ll get a sitter. You don’t need to worry about him. He’s a good kid--won’t bother you or get in the way.”

 

Jack waves him off. “Bring him in tomorrow.”

 

“Uh, sure Jack. Whatever you want,” Rhys says, turning to head back to his desk.

 

Against his better judgement, Rhys brings Symon in again. At least Symon is excited, even if Rhys is suspicious as all hell.

 

Today Jack is in early--well  _ on time _ which is early for Jack--and it only adds to Rhys’ suspicion.

 

“Rhys! Symon! C’mere, there's someone I want you to meet,” Jack says, gesturing them over to his desk.

 

Rhys makes his way over with Symon holding his hand at his side. It’s not until he gets to the desk that he notices the dark haired girl playing in the space behind Jack’s chair. At the sight of Rhys she rises politely and makes her way over to Jack, who pulls her into his lap with a smile.

 

“This is Angel,” Jack says. “My daughter.”

 

Rhys had heard mention of an Angel in passing, though he didn’t realize it was Jack daughter. “I didn’t know you had children,” Rhys says, mildly stunned.

 

“Just Angel,” the alpha replies with a smile. “Sweetie, why don’t you take Symon and go play together.”

 

Angel hops out of Jack’s lap. She’s a little bigger than Symon and probably a year or two older. She silently takes Symon’s hand and pulls him along in the direction of Rhys’ desk.

 

Once they’re gone Jack leans forward, resting his face in his palm as he looks up at Rhys. “He really does look like you,” Jack says as Rhys watches the children.

 

“So why is it I’ve never heard about your daughter? Are you going to start pulling wives out of your pockets next?” Rhys questions, turning his attention back to Jack.

 

Jack laughs, but his face quickly turns sullen. “My wife--Angel’s mother--died a while back. So no, I won’t be pulling any wives from my pockets,” he says firmly, but a hint of a smile remains on his lips.

 

Rhys nods. “Sorry for your loss.”

 

The older man shrugs and waves him off. “You should bring your kid in every weekend. It’d save money on sitters,” Jack says with a grin.

 

“Why would I do that?” Rhys asks, looking back at his son for a moment before turning his attention to Jack.

 

“ _ Because _ Angel doesn’t have a lot of friends. And who better for her to befriend than your son? It’ll be great, pumpkin. I promise,” Jack says, making a cross gesture over his heart.

 

Rhys sighs. “Fine, but no murder on the weekends.”

 

“It’s not murder if they deserved it.”

 

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s still murder.”


	2. Making Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys are perfect, wonderful beings that bring pure happiness and joy to my life! I love all of you! I honestly didn't expect this fic to get so much love! You're beautiful people and I love you. <3  
> Now I feel extra bad this chapter's super short. I mean I always feel bad posting short chapters, but with you guys being so wonderful I feel worse. I honestly could be guilt tripped into posting another chapter today. Once again, thank you for all your love and kind words, it means the world to me! c:

Angel doesn't remember anything about her mother. In fact she doesn't even know what the woman looked like. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her one day and she asked her father to show her pictures.

 

He--as gently as possible--told her that after her mother's death he had burned all the photos of her in a fit of mourning rage. He couldn't stand to look at her face anymore. He then apologized and took her to get ice cream as if that could mend everything. She forgave him anyway. 

 

Over the course of the many weekends she's been spending at her father's office with Symon, she's also begun to like Rhys. Symon’s mother is kind, gentle, loving, and most importantly  _ a mother-- _ something Angel doesn't have. As much as she loves her father, he's not a mother and can't do the things a mother does.

 

Symon himself is a good friend. They've developed a sort of kinship over their lack of a proper family. Angel had gleaned from what Symon told her that while his father is alive and well, the man is in fact a deadbeat--a word she'd heard Rhys use.

 

“Symon, your mom's pretty cool,” she says, making her loader bot launch it's disc to hit Symon’s in the chest.

 

Symon’s loader bot falters and with its dying breath--could robots breathe?--launches it's own disc, taking down Angel's bot. With a triumphant smile Symon replies, “Yeah. So is your dad.”

 

Angel takes a quiet pride in knowing her father is pretty cool. She leans in close to whisper in Symon’s ear. “You know what would be awesome?”--Symon shakes his head--“If your mom and my dad were cool  _ together. _ ”

 

It really was meant to be an innocent comment. Something silly to say and fun to imagine. Maybe it would spark a story for their next playtime. Angel could see the gears turning in Symon’s head--behind those glasses is a devious and patient planner.

 

Symon grabs Angel and leans to whisper in her ear. “We should make them get together,” he says.

 

Angel shifts to look at her father and Rhys at her father's desk. She doesn't know what they're talking about, but hunched over in each other’s space they're adorable. They'd be cute together. She has no qualms with Symon’s idea. “Okay, what's the plan?” she asks, turning her attention back to the boy.

 

When it's time to leave Angel runs to Symon for what looks like a hug and what is actually a well disguised promise. The look on her father's face is only a bonus; she doesn't have many friends--a result of being Handsome Jack's daughter. It obviously makes him very happy to see her making friends. 

 

Back at home Angel waits patiently for Symon to execute his part of the plan.

 

Her father comes down the stairs two at a time, but he doesn't stop until he's at the sofa. “Angel, honey, I have to go out real quick. I'll be back soon, okay?” her father says, buttoning his coat.

 

“Where you going?” she asks, carefully retrieving her father's echo comm from his pocket.

 

Her father sighs. “Rhys needs me to meet him somewhere so he can give me something--adult stuff, sweetie. You wouldn't care.”

 

Angel nods and kisses her father goodbye.

 

As soon as he's out the door she sends a message to Rhys--from Jack's comm--asking him to meet. Then she just waits patiently. She's a very patient eight year old. 


	3. The Result of Meddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So weirdly enough there's a lot of POV jumping, but really we settle on Jack's for most of this fic, just fair warning. Also the next like three chapters really show how much I've been listening to Close by Nick Jonas. So fair warning on that too. Honestly I'd recommend listening to it while reading those chapters. Because it adds to the effect. Also, like I said before, there's not a lot of slow burn. It's really just Push and Pull. Which is still good in my opinion.
> 
> And as always, thank you babes for your kind words and your love for this fic! I adore each and every comment even though I'm running out of things to say other than thank you. So apologies if my reply to your comment is weird. I am not a creative person.

Rhys enters the Hub of Heroism and instantly spies Jack. He's at a table scaring off passersby. As he approaches Jack rises.

 

“You're late. You're never late. Did something happen?” Jack asks, examining Rhys closely. He grips Rhys by the chin and turns his head to check for...damage maybe?

 

Rhys would deny it to his grave, but he  _ likes  _ having Jack be concerned about him. He bats the alpha’s hand away. “Nothing happened,” he says. “So what’d you need?”

 

Jack cocks a brow. “I thought you were the one who needed something from me.”

 

“ _ No _ . You asked me to meet you here because you needed something. Remember?” Rhys says, eyeing the alpha curiously. “You getting too old to remember what you did fifteen minutes ago?”

 

Jack makes an indignant noise. “No. You asked me here.  _ Remember _ ? Said you had some--you know what I'll prove it,” he says, fishing in his pockets for his comm. After a minute of searching, he growls and gives up.

 

“Forget that too?”

 

The older man growls again, but it only makes Rhys laugh. “Show me yours, I'll prove it,” he says.

 

Rhys sighs and shifts closer to Jack, opening his comm in his palm. “I really don't want to play games, Jack. I have to get home to Symon. I shouldn't leave him alone so long.”

 

Jack makes a face somewhere between confusion and annoyance. “I didn't send this,” he says, turning his attention to Rhys.

 

“Then who did?” Rhys questions, humoring his boss.

 

A look of realization paints Jack's face and he groans. “Go home Rhys. We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

 

***

 

“Angel! Angel get your scheming butt down here, right now!” her father calls from downstairs.

 

_ Shit.  _ She's caught.

 

Leisurely, Angel makes her way downstairs. Her father watches her with a glare and a tapping foot. When she reaches him he makes them level by squatting. Angel always appreciates that.

 

“ _ You  _ little miss have a lot of explaining to do,” he says firmly. “You wanna tell me why you lured Rhys to the Hub of Heroism? And me for that matter?”

 

Angel contemplates her answer, swinging back and forth in thought. She could lie and say she thought it would be funny. She could tattle and say it was all Symon’s idea--only a half truth. She could also tell the truth and risk him being on her side about it. Her father seems to like Rhys enough. Maybe he could use a little nudge.

 

“I like Rhys. He’s a mother,” she says plainly.

 

“He’s an omega, kid. All omegas are mothers. Try again.”

 

She sighs. “I thought you could be uhm cool. Together. Like  _ together  _ together.”

 

Instead of scolding her, her father bursts into a fit of laughter so bad he knocks himself backward. It’s not the response she’d been expecting, but it’s certainly better than being scolded. Maybe he would be on her side afterall.

 

After a minute he settles down and sits up with his legs crossed. “Oh, that’s priceless, sweetie.  _ Priceless _ . You’re trying to get me and Rhys together. It’s a cute idea, but the kid’s kinda got more important stuff going on,” he tells her, gesturing for her to sit across from him.

 

She complies. “Like what?”

 

“Like his job. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s also a single parent. Kids keep you busy, you know. There’s also Symon’s father. Dunno what his deal is, but he obviously makes Rhys distracted. The point is, Angel, he’s got more important stuff to worry about. He doesn’t need your meddling,” he says. 

 

Angel eyes her father incredulously. “I think you like him.”

 

He laughs. “Do you now? Go to bed, kiddo. This conversation is over,” Jack says, standing and ushering her off in the direction of her room.

  
  


***

 

Ever since that little incident with Rhys and Angel, Jack had started to notice Rhys more--in increasingly annoying ways.

 

They’d be in a meeting and Rhys would be taking notes then he’d pause for a minute; resting his pen against his lips and smiling back at Jack when he caught him looking. He’d ask Rhys to bring him something and as the cute little omega walked away, he’d get lost in the swing of his hips. Rhys would be drinking one of his frilly coffees and he’d get cream on his upper lip, forcing Jack to wipe it away.

 

The worst part about all of it wasn’t that he’d start thinking about his PA during work. It wasn’t that Rhys had begun distracting him from his work. No. It was the romantic and domestic nature of his thoughts. His vivid imagination was capable of so much more and yet he was imagining stupid shit like Rhys baking, Rhys playing with their kids,  _ having kids  _ with Rhys.

 

He’s losing his goddamn mind and there’s only one thing for it.

 

Jack scribbles out Rhys’ name on a sticky note and sticks it to his desk.

 

When Rhys approaches a couple hours later with a stack of papers his attention falls onto the sticky note. He picks it up and holds it up for Jack to see. “What’s this?”

 

“My bucket list,” Jack replies nonchalantly, not bothering to look up from his work.

 

“It’s just a sticky note with my name on it.”

 

“I know.”

 

Rhys makes a noise Jack can’t label. “Why are you such an ass?”

 

Finally Jack looks up from his work to find Rhys’ cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “You are what you eat, right?” he says with a wicked grin.

 

It’s quiet for a moment and Rhys’ cheeks are  _ bright  _ red now. “That’s disgusting, Jack,” Rhys says suddenly, dropping the stack of papers onto the desk before crumpling the sticky note and walking off.

 

Jack can’t help grin at the slight scent of arousal coming off the omega. “You love it though.”

 

Rhys grumbles and turns back to Jack. “I  _ hate  _ you.”

 

Jack rises from his chair and makes his way to Rhys. He grabs him by the hips and stands in his space. Rhys’ scent is strong this close. It’s one of the many things about the omega that’s been driving him absolutely mad.

 

“What part of ‘I hate you’ don’t you understand?” Rhys spits, but there’s no venom in his voice and he’s not trying to escape.

 

“The part where you hate me. I mean, c’mon. I’m great.”

 

Rhys snorts a laugh and a smile breaks out on his face. He rests his head on Jack’s chest as laughter shakes through him. “You’re a complete dork. You know that, right?” he says as he looks up at Jack.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still your boss, kiddo. Careful what you say,” Jack replies, though he’s still grinning.

 

“Alright then Mr. Boss Man. Let’s get back to work?”

 

Jack shakes his head, “Nah. Give it a minute.”

 

***

 

“Dad, you smell,” Angel says as she sits on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

 

Jack doesn’t acknowledge her as he continues cooking.

 

“Like Rhys,” she accuses.

 

He sighs, setting the knife down and abandoning his vegetable cutting. “It’s your own fault, missy,” he says, jabbing a finger in his daughter’s direction.

 

The eight year old laughs. “I knew you liked him!”

 

“I didn’t until you started putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

 

“ _ You like Rhys _ ,” she teases in singsong.

 

Jack makes his way around the island and Angel bolts, forcing him to chase her around the penthouse. They run from room to room until she’s got herself cornered in one of the guest bedrooms. She’s backed up against a wall and laughing. In one fluid motion Jack scoops her into his arms and tosses her onto the bed to tickle her.

 

She’s giggling and grinning with half hearted pleas for mercy.

 

“I’ll stop if you pledge your evil services to me,” he says with a laugh.

 

“Okay! Okay! Whatever you want!” Angel shrieks through her laughter.

 

Jack stops and flops down beside her on the bed. “I need you to help me get Rhys to like me,” he says. “So he’ll go on a date with me.”

 

Angel just laughs for a minute before sitting up and looking at her father. “Wait you’re serious?”

 

“Mmhm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get more writing done today, but my head's been killing me. I'm also incredibly bored, which doesn't matter to you guys, I know, but I'm like Rhys and I overshare. (spoilers oops) Anyway, I wish you all migraine free days for the rest of your lives because this sucks. <3


	4. Afraid to Get Too Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now is when you can really tell I listened to Close nearly nonstop for 72hrs. Therefore I recommend listening to it while you read. It really adds to the effect.
> 
> I also wanna apologize for not responding to everyone's comments lately. I'm feeling kinda bleh and everything is effort. But I want you all to know I love you very much! And your comments make me so happy! <3

“Rhys, where's Symon?” Jack asks as he approaches the omega’s desk with his daughter in tow.

 

Rhys doesn't look up as he passes off a mug of coffee. “With his father.”

 

“Angel, go play,” Jack says, ushering the young girl off. When she's gone he turns his attention to Rhys. “What do you mean he's with his father? I thought the man was ‘barely in the picture’.”

 

“Operative word there is  _ barely _ , Jack,” Rhys replies, attention on the papers before him. “Why do you care anyway? It's one weekend.”

 

Jack doesn't respond, just walks off in the direction of his desk.

 

Rhys has noted the shift in the alpha’s behavior since their odd little encounter at the Hub of Heroism. Quite frankly it's getting on his nerves. The flirting is one thing--Jack flirts with anything on two legs. The extent of his flirting however has gotten to a point beyond Jack's usual and it's making the omega suspicious.

 

Jack goes to his meetings alone, leaving Rhys to babysit Angel. When Jack returns he almost completely ignores Rhys except when he wants something from him. He even tells Rhys to go home early--something Rhys has never done in the three years he's been Jack's PA. 

 

Rhys’ apartment feels empty and depressing without Symon in it. It's rare that Rhys gets alone time, but now he has it he doesn't know what to do with it. He orders pizza and watches the kind of TV he can't watch with Symon around. He even goes so far as to dim the lights in his room and please himself--something he hasn't done in a  _ long  _ time. After he's run out of things to do he just goes to bed.

 

The sound of Rhys’ comm going off rouses him. He holds up his robotic hand and answers it. “Hello?” he says groggily.

 

“Rhys, I uh wanted to talk,” Jack says back.

 

“I'm trying to sleep, Jack. Go to bed,” Rhys groans.

 

It's quiet for a minute and Rhys thinks maybe he can go back to sleep.

 

“I think we should spend more time together.”

 

Rhys snorts. “Seriously, Jack? We spend every day together. You need to go to sleep. You have a meeting tomorrow.  _ Several  _ meetings.”

 

Jack doesn't reply immediately and Rhys wonders what the other man is thinking. “Damn, Rhysie. Fine. I'll go to sleep. Jeez.”

 

Before Rhys can say something smart back the older man hangs up.

 

_ That was weird _ is all Rhys can think.

 

At work the next day Jack's back to normal and Angel is absent. It only adds to the omega’s suspicion.

 

“Rhys, c’mere,” Jack calls from his desk. 

 

Rhys rises from his chair and makes his way to Jack's desk. “Yes?”

 

Jack leans backward, relaxing into his chair. “You busy tonight?”

 

“Nope. Symon’s still with his father--shocker I know. I'm thinking about getting crazy drunk and passing out. Why?” Rhys says. He's only half serious about the crazy drunk bit. He still has to work on Monday and Rhys is responsible.

 

“I want to take you to dinner,” Jack says nonchalantly. He steeples in fingers and watches Rhys. 

 

Rhys stutters for a moment--nothing coherent coming out of his mouth.

 

“How eloquent,” Jack teases.

 

Jack's words make Rhys straighten up and pull himself together. “Like a business dinner?”

 

“No. Like a date, dum dum,” Jack answers, shaking his head and smiling to himself. 

 

Rhys pauses for a minute. He's not been on a date in years. Symon keeps him busy and even if he didn't he has to be careful who he lets around his son. Not that many people are lining up to go on a date with a single parent anyway. Most people want to start their own family not pick up someone else's. 

 

The fact it's Jack asking him--a man with his own family to worry about--makes Rhys ridiculously confused. Though he won't deny he's always felt a kind of safety with Jack around. It’s probably an alpha thing, Rhys would admit; something about him being familiar. Sometimes he feels the same around Vaughn. Rhys likes to think it’s just a Jack thing, though.

 

“Uh sure,” Rhys answers finally.

 

***

 

Rhys feels silly running around his apartment getting ready for his date with Jack. At the same time however he’s excited to the point of nervousness.

 

When Rhys’ comm goes off he expects it to be Jack, but when Greg appears with his green eyes and sandy blond hair Rhys feels his excitement falter. “Is Symon okay?”

 

“Yeah, he's in bed. I just wanted to talk to you,” Greg says, looking sheepish. 

 

“So talk,” Rhys says, not in the mood for Greg's crap. Greg has started to make a habit of pestering Rhys for no real reason at all. He'll call to  _ talk  _ and end up saying nothing important. 

 

Greg sighs and Rhys is questioning how he'd ever let this man near him let alone had his kid. “I wanna make this work, Rhys. You and me. For Symon.”

 

Rhys can't help the laughter that escapes him. “Very funny, Greg.”

 

“I'm being serious, Rhys.”

 

Greg would call him for something so stupid just before Rhys’ date. It’s so like him to rain on his parade. “Since when do you care about Symon, Greg? As I recall you didn't even want him in the first place,” Rhys says, starting to cross his arms, but stopping when he realizes he can't. 

 

“Rhys, please don't be like that,” Greg pleads and he almost seems sincere.

 

“I can be however I want to be, Greg. Just keep an eye on  _ my  _ son. Make sure he gets to school on time. Now leave me alone. I have a date,” Rhys snaps before disconnecting.  _ Stupid knothead.  _

 

There's a knock at the door that Rhys turns to answer, trying to shrug off his annoyance before opening the door. When he does Jack stands before him looking more dressed up than Rhys has ever seen the alpha. He wears a three piece suit in dark red--it reminds Rhys of blood.

 

“You okay, pumpkin? You look a little stressed,” Jack says, face quickly shifting to concern.

 

Rhys nods. “Just talked to Greg is all. He’s a bit...I don’t know.”

 

Jack invades Rhys’ space, encompassing him in the alpha’s scent as he places his hands on Rhys’ shoulders. Rhys would be lying if he said it wasn’t at least a little calming. “He’s a knothead?” Jack offers.

 

“Yeah, that,” Rhys agrees with a laugh.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Jack asks, hands shifting from his shoulders to his waist.

 

Rhys shakes his head but starts talking anyway; he’s never been good at keeping things to himself. “He said he wants to get back together. For Symon’s sake.”

 

Jack nods and Rhys finds himself pressing closer--something he’s started to do unconsciously when he and Jack stand too close together. “You thinking about it?”

 

“It would be good for Symon to have a father figure around,” Rhys says idly. It’s not a lie. Rhys is terrible with discipline. Not to mention the absolute worst cook. It’s a wonder he and Symon have survived so long. “But me and Greg were never meant to be.”

 

Jack doesn’t press further and Rhys is grateful for it. They take a car to some overpriced and extravagant restaurant; Rhys has gotten used to Jack’s affection for decadence. He feels underdressed, but Jack promises him he looks  _ stunning _ . 

 

The whole ordeal is stupidly romantic and Rhys finds he’s flushed a near permanent shade of pink throughout the night--only made worse by wine. Halfway through dinner Jack shifts his chair so they’re side by side rather an across from one another. Rhys hasn’t felt this safe, comfortable, or just plain happy in a long time.

 

“So forgive me if this comes off as rude, but why Greg?” Jack questions after dessert, face scrunched up in curiosity.

 

Rhys takes another sip of his wine before answering. “He wasn’t always a…”

 

“Knothead,” Jack offers.

 

Rhys nods his assent and continues. “He was a pretty good guy back in college--”

 

“Wait, you knew him in college?”

 

“Hush, let me finish,” Rhys chides, waving the other man off. “He was charming, funny,  _ kind _ . All that good stuff you’d want in a mate. We’d been together awhile when I found out about Symon. Greg gave me an ultimatum--him or the baby. I don’t think I have to tell you which I chose. After Symon was born I thought I’d make a point by sending him baby pictures. Say  _ look what you missed out on _ . He  _ begged _ me to let him be part of Symon’s life.”

 

“And you being the kind and generous little omega you are, said yes,” Jack finishes for him.

 

“Mmhm. Greg’s not a bad man, he’s just not a good father,” Rhys says.

 

Jack watches Rhys for a moment. “I think the latter contradicts the former,” he says finally.

 

Looking at Jack--reclined in his chair with his eyes soft on Rhys--it makes Rhys’ heart flutter. Some part of him wonders if he could get used to this; make a habit out of spending romantic time with Handsome Jack--his boss. The louder and more sensible part says this is a one time deal.

 

“Take me home, Jack,” Rhys says when he can’t handle the alpha’s gaze any longer.

 

Every fiber of his being is screaming to let Jack in, to let Jack take care of him and Symon, to  _ let Jack _ . Rhys just stares blankly as the other man rests against the doorframe. He can’t. He shouldn’t. But he  _ wants  _ to. 

 

He wants Jack to close the space between them. He wants Jack to drive him backward into his apartment with kisses and praise. He wants Jack to screw the sense out of him.  _ He wants Jack _ . 

 

But he can’t have Jack. So he thanks him for dinner and swears he had a good time. He tells Jack he’ll see him at work tomorrow. He watches Jack walk away and he closes the door. Then he spends the rest of the night--and much of the morning--thinking of artful ways to keep this night from repeating. Because this is Handsome Jack. Psychopath. Serial murderer. CEO of Hyperion.  _ His boss.  _ And you can’t fall in love with Handsome Jack.


	5. Proof I'm What You're Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I wanna apologize for there being no chapter yesterday. I was working on Poison Punch and it kind of consumed me. Second I wanna tell you babes that I love you so very much! And I'm so very sorry I keep getting behind on comments. I try to keep up but sometimes I fail and for that I apologize. Also we're half way to the end! Woot! I'm currently fussing over chapter seven (what's with me and chapter seven why does it always hate me) and so I need to give that another good look over. And I'm working on some other stuff too so hopefully you guys will see something new by the time this is over. c: Hope you enjoy!

Work the day after their date is the same as it always is. Rhys hands of Jack’s coffee with no more than a good morning. They attend their meetings and Rhys takes his notes. When Jack asks for something Rhys brings it without a word. There’s no jokes and no idle banter. Which, admittedly, is not the same as it always is.

 

Rhys is avoiding him and quite frankly Jack isn’t going to stand for it.

 

“Rhysie, cupcake, pumpkin, c’mere,” Jack calls, swinging side to side in his desk chair as he waits. There’s a scent of fear on the omega and Jack tries for his kindest tone.

 

“You need something, Jack?” Rhys says almost mechanically. Even an outsider could see there’s something wrong, scent or no.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about last night,” Jack begins, but doesn’t finish. 

 

Rhys holds up his hand and Jack pauses. “Last night can’t happen again. It was unprofessional of me and I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

The omega’s words stun Jack into silence.  _ He  _ shouldn’t have done that?  _ He  _ was unprofessional? As if Jack hadn't been the one to ask Rhys out. Rhys takes his silence as cue to leave.

 

“Rhys, wait,” Jack says suddenly, standing from his chair.

 

Rhys turns back slowly and his eyes look wet. “Jack, please. Just don’t.”

 

Jack sits back down and watches Rhys walk past his own desk and head out of the office completely. To say Jack’s confused would be an understatement.

 

***

 

“...And then he just walked off! Just left the office! Completely! He didn’t come back!” Jack shrieks, pacing back and forth in front of the couch as he recounts the events of the day to Angel. “I thought we had a nice time!”

 

“Dad, you need to relax,” Angel says calmly.

 

Jack  _ is  _ trying to relax. He is, he  _ really really  _ is, but Rhys’ odd behavior is sending Jack down a deep rabbit hole of self doubt.  _ Had he misjudged the entire situation? Had Rhys only come along because Jack’s his boss? Had the evening been a total disaster that Jack was too blind to see? Had he made the younger man uncomfortable? Freaked him out? Was he worried about what Jack would do if he’d turned him down? Did he think Jack was just toying with him? Did-- _

 

“Dad, seriously. You need to relax,” Angel says, snapping her fingers to draw Jack’s attention back to her. It works. “Maybe he doesn’t think you’re serious. This boy at school--Jermaine--he likes this girl--Agatha. He told her to her face and she didn’t believe him! So he brought her flowers every day for like a whole week! And now they’re together. They’re  _ really _ cute. You should try showing Rhys how you feel!”

 

At this point, Jack’s in too deep to just give up and even if her example is a little silly, she has a point. Here’s Rhys with his kid to worry about; who was in what he thought was a serious relationship and as soon as the going got tough his significant other got going. Of course he doesn’t believe Jack’s serious!

 

Jack leans over to press a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “You’re a genius, Angel.”

 

“I know,” she replies.

 

***

 

Jack waits patiently for Rhys to come in; he’s already late by five minutes--something very unlike Rhys. He kicks his feet up onto his desk and stares at the door.

 

Another five minutes pass before the doors burst open and an angry omega storms in with a fistful of flowers. “Jack what the actual fuck is your problem?!” he screams, approaching the desk at a rapid pace. As he reaches it he throws the bundle of flowers onto the desk. “What did you do, buy a whole flower shop?!”

 

Yes. That’s exactly what he did. “You don’t like them?”

 

Rhys throws his hands in the air with an exasperated groan. “Jack, do you have any idea the absolute nightmare it’s going to be to get rid of these when they die?”

 

“I’ll help you,” Jack offers. “Or better yet I’ll get R&D to make you ones that never die. Then you can keep them forever.”

 

“Jack!” Rhys shrieks. “I don’t want any damn flowers! Not now and not ever!”

 

Jack sighs. “You don’t like them.”

 

“I don’t...no I don’t fucking like them! I…”--he pauses and his attention falls to the bundle of flowers on the desk--“Just knock it off, Jack,” he finishes calmly before heading back to his desk.

 

The next gift is better received: chocolates.

 

Rhys throws a box of chocolates onto the desk. “Your favorites,” he says before walking off.

 

Sure enough the box is full of white chocolate truffles. “Do you not like them?” Jack asks, voice loud enough to carry to Rhys’ desk.

 

“I like them just fine, Jack. You like them more,” Rhys replies without looking up.

 

If asked, Jack would deny how giddy he feels over Rhys caring enough to gather all his favorites into one box and give them to him.

 

While material things seem to have softened up the omega, Jack knows Rhys well enough to know that’s not all he cares about. Gestures of genuine kindness and all that. So on Friday Jack gives Rhys the weekend off and makes him promise to spend it with his son. At first he protests, but he eventually gives in and Jack doesn’t see or hear from him until Sunday night.

 

He’s in bed--not yet asleep--when his comm goes off. “Handsome Jack,” he says at the comm, not opening his eyes.

 

“Jack, you’re up to something. What is it?” Rhys questions.

 

At the sound of the omega’s voice he opens his eyes and angles himself up slightly. Rhys is looking at him like he’s thinking deeply about something. “I’m up to nothing, pumpkin. Am I not allowed to spoil my favorite PA every once in awhile?”

 

“I’m your  _ only  _ PA, Jack.”

 

“Damn right. And what would I do without you?”

 

At that Rhys smiles slightly. “Most likely die.”

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

“You been alright these past few days? Without me, I mean.”

 

Jack shrugs. “I miss you,” he says before he can stop himself. It’s not a lie, but it’s not something he wants to admit to either.

 

“You miss me?” Rhys asks and Jack finds he likes the look on the omega’s face--a slight blush with widened eyes and a soft smile. He’s in hellishly deep.

 

He sighs and puts his face in his free hand. “Yeah,” he replies simply.

 

It’s quiet for what feels like an eternity. Jack can still hear Rhys breathing, but he’s not sure he wants to look at him yet. What if he’s horrified? Or just plain annoyed? Or--

 

“I miss you too, Jack,” Rhys says suddenly. He disconnects before Jack has a chance to respond. Obviously it was a big admission for the other man as well.

 

He tries not to think too much on it.  _ They spend a lot of time together. It only makes sense to miss something you’re used to having. He probably just misses being busy. Rhys loves his work. _ But fails miserably.


	6. Space Is Just A Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, I wanna say (because I know someone is going to mention it) that Rhys is just kinda fucking exhausted by everything, but especially Greg and so he's half tempted to just fucking give in because wow this is draining. Just wanted to clarify that before you get to that part. Also, thank you for your comments as always you guys make my day and I'm so happy to have you guys reading and enjoying my fic.

When Jack comes into work Monday he finds Rhys leaning against his desk, a mug of what he presumes is coffee in his hand. Without hesitation he mounts the steps to his desk until he’s in Rhys’ personal space. As soon as he goes for the mug Rhys places it on the desk. Jack makes an indignant noise and Rhys only smiles. The omega leans forward, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and resting his head on the alpha’s chest.

 

“Rhys?”

 

“Shh, Jack. You’ll ruin it.”

 

Slowly Jack slides his arms around Rhys in return. They stay like that for a while. Jack has no complaints--only questions. After what might be ten minutes and is definitely not long enough, Rhys pulls back to look up at Jack.

 

“I missed how you smell,” Rhys says plainly and without hesitation; as if it's the most normal thing he could possibly say. 

 

Jack leans close to press a kiss to the omega’s hair. “I do smell pretty good.”

 

“And you’ve ruined it,” Rhys says, pulling back and trying to free himself.

 

“Awh, c’mon Rhysie. Don’t be like that,” Jack says, gripping Rhys’ jaw and tilting his head so he looks at him. Just as he shifts to kiss the younger man, Rhys wriggles free.

 

“Nope. None of that.  _ No _ ,” he says, heading back to his own desk as quickly as possible.

 

Rather than chase after the omega and test his luck further; he makes his way around to his chair and starts on his work. It doesn’t occur to him until much later that Rhys was trying to get Jack’s scent on him.

 

***

 

Rhys would deny it if asked, but he finds comfort in Jack’s scent. No more weekends off.

 

“Mom, you smell like Mr. Handsome Jack,” Symon says over dinner.

 

Rhys laughs. “We work together, love. It’s bound to happen.”

 

Symon shakes his head. “ _ No. _ You always smell like Mr. Handsome Jack, but now you  _ smell like Mr. Handsome Jack. _ ”

 

“Symon that doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Symon makes an exasperated noise and crosses his arms. “ _ You smell _ ,” he says grumpily.

 

“Okay, so I smell. What does it matter?”

 

At that Symon perks up. “It matters because you  _ like like  _ him.”

 

“I do not.”

 

“You do too!” Symon accuses.

 

Rhys sighs and rests his face in his hands. “So what if I did, Symon? It’s not like anything would come of it. Anything good at least.”

 

Symon hops down from his chair and makes his way to Rhys. He wraps his arms around his waist and rests his head against Rhys’ chest. “I’m sorry you’re sad.”

 

A knock on the door interrupts their moment and Rhys gently pulls Symon off him to answer it. Symon stays in the dining room as Rhys makes his way to the front door. Another, louder knock reverberates through the apartment. “I’m coming!” he calls, maneuvering around Symon’s toys.

 

As soon as he opens the door he regrets it. “What do you want, Greg?”

 

“What? Am I not allowed to visit the mother of my child every now and again?” Greg says cheerily.

 

Rhys crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at the other man. “Symon’s mine, Greg. You have no right to--”

 

“I didn't come here to fight, Rhys,” Greg says quickly.

 

“What did you come here for?”

 

Greg shifts uncomfortably under Rhys’ gaze. “I  _ really  _ want to make this work, Rhys. For Symon.”

 

It's hard to remain angry at the alpha before him when he's being so... _ omega _ . Greg was always a bit weird, but this is a whole new level for him. Rhys shifts out of the doorway in silent invitation.

 

Greg finishes dinner with them. Symon’s excited to have his father and mother in the same space and won't stop smiling. It really warms Rhys heart. Until Symon asks  _ daddy are you staying the night? _ Then Rhys wants a scream.

 

To his credit, Greg looks to Rhys for confirmation rather than just answering himself.

 

Rhys sighs. “Daddy can stay if he wants.”

 

And daddy does stay. He tucks Symon in with Rhys; he even reads to him. It's all very heartwarming. Rhys is just about to tell Greg to hit the couch when the alpha asks him if they can share his bed. Rhys caves and goes so far as to curl up beside his ex. It doesn't feel as wrong as Rhys thinks it should.

 

Then he reminds himself that's not his fault. It's his stupid endotype taking comfort in the presence of an alpha.

 

In the morning Greg offers to walk Symon to school and Rhys lets him.

 

***

 

There's something wrong with Rhys.

 

At first Jack doesn't know what it is. He looks just fine. He doesn't seem upset or stressed. Then it dawns on him.  _ He smells wrong.  _ He smells like alpha and it's not Jack.

 

“Rhys, get up,” Jack commands, standing in front of the omega’s desk and gesturing him upward.

 

Rhys does as he's told, moving around the desk to stand before Jack. He opens his mouth to say something but immediately shuts it when Jack pulls him close and bows his head to scent Rhys’ neck.

 

_ Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.  _ Jack's mind screams at him.  _ This scent is wrong. _

 

“You stink,” Jack growls, his hot breath making Rhys shiver.

 

Rhys latches onto Jack's shoulders; presumably to keep steady as Jack corrects the issue. He laves at the exposed flesh of the omega’s neck while holding him close.

 

_ Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Better.  _ **_Right_ ** _.  _

 

Finally Jack pulls away to find Rhys a lovely shade of pink. The omega’s eyes are wide and he's still gripping Jack tightly. 

 

Rhys stutters back to life, realization on his face. “What the hell was that?”

 

“Who was he?”

 

“Who?”

 

Jack growls and pulls Rhys closer, eliciting a shocked squeak from the omega. “The alpha whose scent you were covered in.”

 

“Oh. Uh. Symon’s father,” Rhys answers awkwardly, suddenly unable to look Jack in the eyes. 

 

“ _ Why _ ?” Jack grinds out.

 

Rhys is quiet until Jack growls again. “He uh wants to get back together. Symon wanted him to spend the night. I caved.”

 

“And then you had sex.”

 

Rhys balks. “ _ No.  _ We did not. We slept in the same bed. That's very different.”

 

Jack scoffs. “Not really, but you can keep telling yourself that, cupcake.”

 

“What's your problem, Jack? Seriously what is it?” Rhys questions.

 

“ _ You _ ,” Jack answers plainly. 

 

Rhys huffs and lets Jack go. “That's crap.”

 

Jack shrugs and releases Rhys; moving past him toward his desk. He's not in the mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter is chapter seven and I wanna warn you it's unexpected. And maybe weird. I don't know. It's the explicit warning chapter, though really it could've just been a mature warning honestly. I just...you'll see tomorrow. Unless I decide to like rewrite or change the shit out of it or something.


	7. Heated Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I wanna start by saying I was going to edit this chapter to be less...whatever it is, but I'm just not sure how to do that so ta-da! I present to you the worst smut I have ever written and honestly why did I mark this explicit? Dunno. Anyway, if you still have any faith in my abilities as a writer after this I want you to know I really appreciate it because I do not deserve it. It's all downhill from here. Let's get weird.

Rhys thought he was prepared for this. He'd sent Symon to spend the week with Vaughn with strict orders to keep Greg away. He'd stocked his fridge with pre-made meals. He'd gone so far as to order that stupid, ridiculous  _ omega aide _ . It would be his first heat since before Symon and he had tried very hard to be prepared. He'd just forgotten one  _ teeny tiny  _ thing.

 

To tell Jack.

 

It doesn't occur to him until it's too late; until there's a pounding at his door. He barely registers the sound of the front door opening and slamming closed. The shouting, however, he does register.

 

“Rhys! Seriously asshole! I can't believe you made me break into your apartment! Where the fuck-- _ oh _ ,” Jack says, the sudden scent of him driving Rhys crazy.

 

Somewhere it the back of his mind he knows what he looks like: wanton and needy, flushed red and naked. He also knows how he must smell. Or at least that he smells good.

 

“I'm going to go now. Before I do something stupid that we'll both regret later,” Jack says, eyes locked on Rhys as he starts to back out of the doorway.

 

Rhys whimpers and shifts onto his knees to crawl toward Jack. “Please... _ Jack...need _ ,” he begs. In his head that was a full and coherent sentence, but his heat has tainted his higher functions and now all he has is his burning  _ need. _

 

Jack remains frozen in the doorway. “Rhys, you don't want this. I  _ know  _ you don't want this. So I'm just going to leave and...and…” Jack tries, still unable to move even as Rhys moves toward him. 

 

“ _ Jack _ ,” Rhys pleads, tugging at Jack's clothes. “ _ Help. _ ”

 

He needs.  _ Needs _ and Jack can help. Why won't he help? 

 

***

 

It's taking everything Jack has not to do exactly what he wants to, but even as he knows better, he still can't leave. Why can't he leave? He shouldn't be here in the first place.  _ He needs to leave. _

 

But Rhys is so pretty when he begs and Jack is a weak man at heart.

 

“Rhys you have to promise you want this. Or at least promise you won't hate me after,” Jack says, setting his hands on Rhys’ hips.

 

Rhys only nods furiously, still trying to undress Jack.

 

Finally Jack gives in and sheds his clothes before driving Rhys back toward the bed. His body has been ready for this since he stepped into the room, but his mind is still trying to talk him out of it. He chokes out all his apprehension to focus on Rhys, whose staring at him dumbly and whining incoherently. 

 

He presses Rhys backward so he lands on the mattress before making him slide up to give Jack space.

 

“Please Jack... _ please _ ,” Rhys begs.

 

Jack climbs into bed to hover over Rhys, positioning himself with Rhys’ slick entrance before sliding in as slow and careful as he can. As much as Rhys would probably prefer him being rough and punishing, Jack doesn't want to give the omega more reason to hate him. He's already taking advantage as is.

 

Rhys pushes back against Jack in silent askance and as soon as he bottoms out he obliges the omega’s need with quick, hard thrusts. Rhys writhes and moans beneath Jack; happy chants of his name coming between pleas for  _ more _ .

 

Curved over Rhys, Jack nips and sucks at the juncture of his neck and collarbone as the omega claws at his back with his flesh hand; his robotic hand tearing at the sheets. Jack shifts Rhys enough to hit that spot that has him keening and coming between them. He's not far behind, hips stuttering to a halt as his knot swells inside Rhys. 

 

Jack shifts so he's looking down at Rhys and he tucks a bit of the younger man's hair behind his ear.

 

“Jack,” Rhys says lazily.  _ Shit here it comes.  _ “Thank you.”

 

His apology dies on his lips at Rhys’ words. “What?” he questions.

 

“It was...so bad, but you helped. So thank you,” Rhys says, repeating the two words Jack hadn't even remotely expected to hear.

 

“Uh, you're welcome, Rhys.”

 

Rhys smiles up at Jack, a blissed out look in his eyes. “It's been awhile,” he says idly. “Vaughn offered to help me through this, but I needed him to watch Symon.”

 

Jack's not entirely sure what Rhys is talking about, but he nods like he understands anyway. Rhys runs his fingers up and down Jack's back, humming as he does so.

 

“You don't have to be so tense, you know. I've wanted this almost as much as you for almost as long,” Rhys says gently, tilting upward to press a kiss to the older man's jaw--where mask meets flesh. “Don't look so surprised, Jack.” 

 

Rather than answer, Jack dips forward to kiss Rhys deeply. When they separate they're breathless and Rhys is already half hard again. “What, knot’s not enough?” he questions with a smirk.

 

“Jack please,” Rhys begs, nails digging into Jack's shoulder.

 

“Anything you want, kiddo.”

 

***

 

Rhys in heat is worse than normal Rhys. When he's coherent enough to talk he's ten times as sarcastic and twenty times as adorable. He's also hard to take care of. Getting him to eat period is as bad as getting Angel to eat her broccoli.

 

As far as Angel's concerned Jack has an important meeting that came up suddenly and she's to behave for the nanny. Which Jack knows she won't do, but doesn't really have the capacity to care about right now. He may have fished through Rhys’ things to find Vaughn’s number. He may have also called said number to check in on Symon. He may or may not regret that decision greatly.

 

About three days into dealing with in heat Rhys, Jack manages to get him into the tub where he's forced to knot him to keep him calm.

 

“Thank you,” Rhys says for maybe the fiftieth time since Jack's arrived.

 

“Anything for you, Rhysie. My sweet little omega,” Jack purrs as he washes the younger man's hair. After day two Jack had started referring to Rhys as  _ mine _ , which even coherent Rhys doesn't seem mind.

 

Day four is the hardest, Jack can't do anything while Rhys is conscious without him following Jack around the apartment, begging incoherently. Which makes his task of washing his face--his real face-- _ very  _ difficult. Deciding Rhys won't remember it anyway, he allows Rhys to come into the bathroom with him. Looking at himself in the mirror is always jarring--that's not who he is anymore--but the look Rhys is giving him from his place on the lid of the toilet is somehow worse.

 

It's not disgust or pity. It's something softer, gentler, and more akin to concern. “You look sad,” Rhys says slowly, like the words are heavy on his tongue and he's struggling to get them out.

 

“Why would I be sad, pumpkin? I've got you,” Jack says, finishing washing before putting his mask back in place.

 

There's no real response from Rhys; he's gone back to his barely coherent begging. Jack knots him a couple times before he finally calms enough to sleep.

 

Day five isn't much better. Jack's had the younger man on nearly every surface in the apartment--save for Symon’s room, he's just not going in there period. Right now the younger man is lazing on top of Jack on the couch with his knot tying them together. 

 

“Jack,” Rhys says softly.

 

“Yes, Rhysie?”

 

“I wish it was you.”

 

“Wish what was me?” he asks, but there's no answer as the omega has dozed off on his chest.

 

Day six is almost easy. They even manage to have conversations. Real conversations. 

 

Day seven  _ is _ easy and Jack is almost sad that his time with Rhys is over. Fuck it. He  _ is  _ sad. 

 

They're lazing on the couch again, barely paying attention to the program on the TV. Jack's just watching Rhys and Rhys is watching back.

 

“I'm glad you were here, Jack,” Rhys says, smiling softly.

 

“Glad to be here,” Jack replies.

 

Day eight is when Jack knows it's definitely over. Rhys smells like…well he smells like sex and Jack, but the point is he doesn't smell like his heat. Not a mention the fact that all Rhys wants to do with the day is curl up with Jack and sleep. Jack happily obliges.

 

Day nine comes around and Rhys says he's ready to return to work; he'll be in as soon as he gets a shower and some food. Jack doesn't want to leave the apartment, but he doesn't tell Rhys that. They part ways and Jack goes home to shower before heading to work. He already aches for Rhys’ absence.

 

***

 

Rhys feels better than he'd felt before his heat. Minus the delicious exhaustion he feels in every fiber of his being from all the exertion, but even that is only positive.

 

He picks through the fragmented memories from the week as he washes. He saw Jack without the mask. It was definitely something he wasn't meant to see and Jack probably thought he'd forget so he files it away for later. He replays different conversations between them as he dresses for work. Why hadn't he given into Jack before? Why had he waited so long? Why hadn't he just _ let Jack in _ ?


	8. I Wish It Was You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that one time Rhys told Jack he wishes it was him instead of Greg who fathered Symon? Well... ;)

It's been several weeks since Rhys’ heat and little has changed between himself and Jack. Sure they'd gone on a couple more dates, but other than that and some heavy kissing they were as normal as ever. It was a bit disappointing. 

 

“Rhys you smell weird,” Vaughn says during Rhys’ lunch break.

 

“I feel weird,” he concedes. “What do I smell like?”

 

Vaughn seems to consider it for a minute. “Remember when you were pregnant with Symon? You smell kinda like that, but different. I dunno man my nose isn't as strong as yours.”

 

Rhys freezes.

 

Whatever face he's making must be pretty bad because Vaughn looks seriously concerned. “Look, bro, I know what it was like last time and I'm not saying it's happening again, because honestly it's a little early to tell. But my offer still stands. I'll help however I can, bro,” Vaughn says, reaching across the table to hold Rhys’ hand. He offers his friend a small, reassuring smile. “It’ll all work out.”

 

***

 

Rhys has called in sick for the past week and honestly it feels like he's avoiding the older man. No matter how many times he calls to ask how he's doing, Rhys doesn't answer. Quite frankly Jack's sick of it.

 

After work he heads over to Rhys’ apartment and knocks on the door; admittedly louder than need be.

 

When the door opens it’s not Rhys who answers. It's a small man-- _ alpha _ .

 

“Oh, it's  _ you _ . Go away, Jack. Rhys doesn't want you here,” he says calmly before attempting to close the door.

 

Jack holds it open with his hand. “Listen here, runt. Either you're going to tell me why Rhys is avoiding me. Or you're going to let me ask him myself,” Jack growls.

 

“First, the name’s Vaughn. Not runt. Second, you're not getting in here. And third, you're going to leave now or I'm going to make you,” Vaughn snarls back.

 

_ Vaughn. Vaughn. Why does that name sound familiar? Right. Rhys had mentioned him a couple of times during his heat. He'd offered to help Rhys through it. _

 

The thought makes Jack growl and Vaughn does the same in return. “Leave, Jack. Last warning,” Vaughn says firmly, eyes locked on Jack. 

 

Admittedly if he wasn't Handsome friggin’ Jack he'd be somewhat intimidated by the little runt, but he is  _ Handsome friggin’ Jack _ . He tries to switch tactics. “Look, I just want to talk to Rhys, okay?” he says gently.

 

Vaughn scoffs and starts to push the door closed even with Jack holding it open.  _ Damn this runt is strong _ . 

 

With everything he has he pushes back until Vaughn concedes. “ _ Fine.  _ But if I let you in, you promise you're not going to hurt him. If you do, I will not for a single second hesitate to kill you,” he says, stepping out of the way in silent invitation.

 

“I'm not going to hurt him, Vaughn,” Jack says, making his way into the apartment and immediately making a beeline for Rhys’ room. He freezes at the door and hesitates with his hand over the knob. After a moment of internal debate, he opens the door and steps inside, closing it behind himself. 

 

In the center of Rhys’ bed is a pile of pillows and blankets, but there's no sign of the omega. Jack can smell him however--and something else--and approaches the pile. “Rhys? You in there?” he questions.

 

A groan comes from the pile and Jack pulls away pillows and blankets to reveal Rhys snuggled up in his comforter. He doesn't speak and he doesn't look all that good either. His cheeks are tear stained and his eyes are red and puffy.

 

“Rhys, what's wrong? Why won't you return my calls?” Jack asks, tone soft and gentle as he seats himself in front of the omega.

 

Rhys doesn't respond, just looks away.

 

“Rhys please,” Jack begs. “I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

 

“You can't help me!” Rhys snaps, shifting away from Jack.

 

Jack sighs and grabs Rhys’ chin between his thumb and forefinger to make him look at him. “Rhys, tell me what's wrong,” he says, gentle and yet firm.

 

Tears well in the omega’s eyes and suddenly he's sobbing uncontrollably; nothing Jack says seems to appease him. “Rhys, c’mon, kiddo. Talk to me. I just want to make you happy,” he says, his own sudden sadness tainting his tone.

 

At that Rhys hiccups and rubs at his eyes. “I--I don't want you to be mad,” he says finally.

 

“Rhysie, baby, I'm not going to be mad. I'd never get mad at you,” Jack says, cupping the younger man's jaw.

 

“Gr--Greg s--said the same th--thing,” Rhys replies between sobs. “And look how that ended!” 

 

Rhys’ words only confuse Jack further. “Baby, I don't know what that has to do with us,” he admits.

 

It's the wrong thing to say and Rhys cries harder. Unable to contain himself he leans into Rhys’ space and embraces him, comforter and all. Then he smells it-- _ himself.  _ Except his scent shouldn't be here. He's been away from this room for weeks and not been in it again for very long either. Suddenly it clicks and he gives Rhys a squeeze.

 

“Rhysie, honey, why didn't you tell me you're pregnant?”

 

Rhys clutches at Jack as he sobs into his shirt. “B--because I want it. I  _ want  _ it, Jack. Please don't make me get rid of it,” he pleads.

 

For a split second he doesn't understand what Rhys is talking about. Then he remembers Greg and he has the sudden urge to strangle the man. “Rhys, Gods no, baby, I'd never make you do that. Never,” he promises.

 

“It's mine?  _ Ours _ ?” 

 

“Of course it is, Rhys. No one else's,” he promises.

 

Rhys giggles through the last of his tears. “Vaughn offered to bond with me,” he says lazily. “Well, I mean, he's offered before. When I was pregnant with Symon. But he offered again.”

 

Jack pulls away to look down at Rhys. “Why would he do that?”

 

“Pregnancy is supposed to be really wonderful for omegas, ya know. You're supposed to feel all these happy feelings and stuff. But it's worrisome and stressful if you're not bonded. Vaughn only wanted to help,” Rhys explains with a shrug. “He's a good friend.”

 

Jack takes a moment to consider the younger man's words. “Do you want to bond with me, Rhys?”

 

“If you're just offering to please me, no. If you're--”

 

“I want to be with you, Rhys. Forever. Now let me bite your neck so you can stop crying,” Jack says playfully. 

 

Rhys laughs and nods against Jack's chest. “Forever,” he echos back. “I want that.”

 

“Good,” Jack says, tipping Rhys’ head and sweeping away his hair to expose the back of his neck. “You're sure?” he checks.

 

“Mmhm. One hundred percent.”

 

Jack sinks his teeth into the back of Rhys’ neck as he clutches Jack tighter. When he pulls away Rhys has a lopsided grin on his face.

 

“So this is what it's supposed to feel like,” he says. “This is nice, Jack. Thank you.”

 

“You and Symon are moving in with me and Angel, just so you know.”

 

Rhys nods and shifts to kiss Jack, pulling the alpha down by the neck as he deepens the kiss. When they separate Rhys’ grin is even more goofy. 

 

“Well you seem happy,” Jack notes.

 

“I am,” Rhys agrees.

 

“Good. No more crying. I'm happy too.  _ We're having a baby _ ,” Jack says happily. It'd been a long time since Angel. Just wait till he tells Angel! She'll be nearly as excited as he is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end here. Sadness. :( Anyway, as always I love you guys and I love your comments. You're all perfect angels. <3


	9. Ding Dong That Bitch Is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who remembers Craig? ;)

Angel looks at Jack like he's grown a second head. “What?” she questions, eyes wide.

 

Jack sighs and Rhys chuckles. “A baby, Angel. As in an infant. You know those tiny things that giggle and poop a lot? We're having one of those,” Jack explains.

 

It seems to click and Angel grins. “Is Rhys going to be my new mommy?” 

 

“Yeah,” Rhys answers simply.

 

Angel leaps up from the couch to give Rhys a hug. Rhys returns the gesture happily.

 

It's something of a nightmare moving all of Rhys’ crap into the penthouse. Symon and Angel try to help, but they get almost as easily distracted as Rhys.

 

It's day three of packing up the apartment when there's a knock at the door. Rhys hops up to get it and Jack lets him. It's probably Vaughn. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jack hears Rhys say down the hall. He gets up and heads to the door. 

 

There's an alpha in the doorway, tall with sandy blond hair and green eyes. He's admittedly attractive, but Jack has no idea who he is. “Can we help you?” Jack asks, wrapping an arm around Rhys’ waist protectively.

 

“No, we can't. Greg's just leaving. Right Greg?” Rhys says quickly. 

 

So this is Greg. Mysterious knothead Greg. He's suddenly significantly less attractive. “Wait, you're the knothead?” Jack asks with a laugh.

 

Greg narrows his eyes at Jack. “Rhys, who's this?”

 

Before Rhys has a chance to reply, Jack speaks. “Handsome Jack. Really, kiddo, I didn't think he'd be so stupid,” Jack says with a smile.

 

“No I mean what're you doing here?”

 

“Oh see you should've been clearer. I'm helping Rhysie move,” Jack says happily, pulling Rhys closer.

 

“Rhysie?” Greg questions dumbly.

 

Rhys crosses his arms. “Greg leave. You have no place here.”

 

“Yeah what he said,” Jack says. “Buh-bye now.”

 

Without another word Jack slams the door closed. “Well that was enlightening.”

 

Rhys laughs. “I think you scared him.”

 

“Nah. He's not smart enough to be scared,” Jack says, releasing Rhys and heading deeper into the apartment to continue packing.

 

***

 

Jack had given Rhys the day off so he could help the movers unpack all his crap. At least that's what Jack had told him. In reality he just didn't want to have Rhys around to stop him. Which Rhys would do if he knew what Jack was planning.

 

He sits at his desk, hands in his lap and legs kicked up on the wood surface. He’s waiting patiently; he’s a very patient man when he wants to be. Finally the doors open and two members of security drag a very confused alpha all the way to Jack’s desk where they make him kneel.

 

“Greg!” Jack shouts excitedly. “You’re just in time!”

 

“In time for what?” Greg asks, looking around in a mild panic.

 

Jack waves off security and they leave. Greg--the smart man he isn’t--takes this as cue to rise. “It’s uh, big in here,” he says. “Roomy. Spacious.”

 

“Those are synonyms, Greg. You just said the same thing three times,” Jack deadpans. How had Rhys ever let this man near him let alone had his kid? He’s as sharp as an old butter knife and just as dull. Sure, he’s got looks on his side, but as soon as he opens his mouth he’s far less attractive.

 

Greg nods, “ _ Right _ .”

 

“C’mere, Gregory,” Jack says perhaps a little too cheerily as he waves the other man over.

 

Greg does as he’s told, approaching the desk until he’s pressed against it.

 

Jack grins wickedly. “Good man, Greg,” he says, taking his feet off the desk and standing, making his way around. Greg moves so his back is against the desk and he’s facing Jack who’s not even a whole foot away.

 

Instantly and without any hesitation, Jack lunges forward and wraps his hands around Greg’s throat. Greg struggles weakly, the sheer surprise in his eyes making Jack laugh maniacally. He puts further pressure on the other man’s neck; not quite enough to completely prevent him from breathing, but enough it’s  _ very  _ difficult.

 

“Look, Greg, I want you to know this is entirely your fault. You deserved this.  _ Deserve  _ this. This could’ve all been prevented if you’d been good to Rhys and Symon in the first place. Then again, I suppose I could thank you for being such a wretched human being. I mean, your bad life choices have allowed me to make some of my best ones,” Jack says, easing up just long enough to keep Greg from passing out before pressing back down.

 

“Except I’m not going to thank you, because you’re a shitty person who doesn’t deserve it. I am however, going to dispense justice. That’s what heroes do, you know. They right wrongs and all that good shit,” Jack adds with a laugh, his eyes almost as wild as Greg’s, but for different reasons. “Last words?”

 

Jack waits a second and when Greg only chokes and gasps for air he laughs again. “Right, no last words for you. I’m going to kill you now,” Jack says cheerily.

 

He tightens his hold and Greg struggles further, squirming beneath and clawing at Jack. With just a little more pressure his neck snaps and Greg goes limp. He doesn’t release him yet, just for good measure.

 

When he finally let’s go he takes a step back to admire his work. “Damn, I love a good strangling.”

 

He calls for security to return and makes them airlock Greg’s corpse. It’s really quite a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna say I'm sorry for not updating sooner. I've got no real excuse. I've just been playing a lot of Witcher 3 and it has consumed me. I'm really loving it. Anyway, as always I love all of you and your sweet comments make my day! There's one more super cheesy chapter after this so hold onto your butts.


	10. Happy Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna start by saying I'm sorry. This was supposed to be posted like forever ago, but I wanted to change something and have been putting it off until today so sorry about that. I also want to say I love all of you and am so happy you've read and enjoyed this. Your comments are true gifts and you're all perfect angels. Again, sorry. Witcher has consumed me and I'm even reading the books now. Anyway, ENJOY!

It’s several months later when Rhys finally starts to wonder about Greg.

 

“You know, I haven’t heard from Greg in awhile,” he says, loading the dishwasher.

 

Jack stiffens against the counter. “Yeah, well you said he does that sometimes. Comes around all let’s get back together and then disappears for months on end.”

 

Rhys makes a face and stops to look at Jack. “Yeah, I know, but still. I worry. Ya know?”

 

“If I told you I sent him to live on one of the Edens would you believe me?” Jack asks, a slight grin playing at his lips.

 

“No. No, I would not. What did you do to Greg?” Rhys questions, crossing his arms.

 

“I may or may not have killed him,” Jack says. “Maybe.”

 

Rhys’ eyes go wide. “Seriously Jack?! You  _ killed  _ him?!” Rhys shrieks and then quieter, “I can’t believe you.”

 

“You’re not mad are you?”

 

Rhys laughs, looking away with his head in his hand. “No, Jack. I’m not mad. Annoyed. Relieved. Not mad.”

 

“Great,” Jack says, closing the space between them to wrap Rhys in his arms. “Because I can’t unkill him so ya know. Can’t go fixing it or anything. I could buy you more flowers. Or chocolates. Or--”

 

“No more gifts, Jack. At least not on that scale. Moderation, please,” Rhys says, resting his head on Jack’s chest. “You know you could’ve told me earlier.”

 

Jack shrugs. “We’re having a moment, Rhysie. Don’t ruin it.”

 

Throughout those months Rhys and Symon have settled into the penthouse quite nicely. They'd set up Symon’s room--let him pick out his own colors and decorations. The baby’s or  _ babies _ to be more accurate--Rhys had nearly fainted at the news and Jack thought it was hilarious--room was decorated according to Rhys’ every wish. They'd had it repainted four times now--Rhys is a fickle creature.

 

Everything had been put in its place and as Rhys’ due date approaches he becomes more restless than ever.

 

“I wanna hold them, Jack. And kiss their cute little faces and pinch their chubby cheeks and--”

 

“Rhys, Rhysie, baby, love of my life, I say this with all the kindness and love I have-- _ shut the fuck up _ . It's two in the goddamn morning and while you get maternity leave, I do not. Let me sleep,” Jack interrupts, nuzzling Rhys’ neck.

 

Rhys huffs. “C’mon, Jack. Don't tell me you're not getting impatient too.”

 

Jack growls and nips Rhys’ shoulder. “Sleep.”

 

“I wonder how much they'll look like you. Angel's beautiful, but she doesn't look all that much like you. What's her mother look like? I've never seen pictures--”

 

“Neither has Angel,” Jack says suddenly.

 

Rhys shifts, trying to turn to face Jack, but struggling against the added bulk and finally settling for just looking back over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean what I said. She's never seen what her mother looks like and she's never going to. Now  _ please _ Rhysie.  _ Sleep _ ,” Jack pleads. 

 

“Why not?”

 

Jack groans and buries his face in Rhys’ neck. “Because I burned every picture of her shortly after she died. I couldn't look at her face anymore.”

 

Rhys is quiet for a while and Jack's just about fallen asleep when he speaks again. “If I died, would you take care of Symon?”

 

“You're not going to die, but if you did, yes I would. Like my own,” Jack promises. “Not that it matters because you're going to live forever.”

 

Rhys hums. “Only if you live forever, too.”

 

“Planning on it.”

 

***

 

When Rhys’ water breaks he insists Jack call Vaughn and much to his chagrin he does. Then he calls Yvette to watch Symon and Angel. 

 

After a good nine hours, a lot of screaming, and Rhys swearing if Jack ever got near his bits again he'd chop his dick off Maven and Nandalie are born. 

 

“You weren't serious about that whole dick chopping thing, right?” Jack asks, holding Maven tightly as he stands beside Rhys.

 

“She's got your eyes,” Rhys says softly, ignoring Jack. Nand had managed to get Jack's heterochromia while Maven just got matching green. “You better not play favorites.”

 

“I won't,” Jack promises, staring down into his little girl’s mismatched eyes.

 

The door opens and Vaughn steps in with Angel and Symon in tow. “They  _ begged  _ me to let them come meet their siblings. I couldn't say no. They would've killed me.”

 

The five of them spend a long time fawning over the little ones. Until Rhys starts yawning uncontrollably and Jack makes everyone leave.

 

***

**Five Years Later**

 

“ _ Mom _ have you seen my hairbrush?!” Angel calls from upstairs.

 

Rhys sighs. “Did you check the bathroom counter?” he shouts back.

 

It's quiet except for knock at the door, which Rhys rushes to answer. 

 

“Vaughn! What're you doing here?”

 

Vaughn shrugs. “I thought I'd see the little ones off on their first day of school. Did it for Symon. Only seems fair.” 

 

“Nand! Maven! Uncle Vaughn’s here!” Rhys shouts back into the penthouse. He lets Vaughn inside and closes the door.

 

It's a madhouse. It’s Angel's first day of middle school, Symon’s first day of sixth grade, and the twin’s first day of school. No one is prepared and everyone is in a rush. Maven and Nand slide down the stairs on their butts, laughing and racing each other. Angel runs from room to room looking for her hairbrush as if there aren't at least five others she could use instead. Symon’s calm and collected as ever at the table, eating his breakfast.

 

Jack comes down the stairs, scooping up his children as he goes. “You two need to eat,” he says carrying them to the dining room and setting them down. “Symon! You really must get your punctuality from your mother.”

 

“Didn't get it from Greg. That's for sure. You're not dressed for work. Are you not going in today?” Symon questions with a smile as he stuffs more egg into his mouth.

 

Jack laughs. “Nope. Spending the day at home with your mother,” he says with a wink.

 

Symon makes a disgusted noise. “Gross, dad. Seriously. Ew.”

 

Angel makes her way into the dining room, stuffing her face with omelet. “You're not making gross sex jokes are you? Because if you are, I'm disowning myself.”

 

“Don't be so melodramatic, Angel,” Vaughn says, stepping into the already crowded dining space with Rhys in tow.

 

“Uncle Vaughn!” all the children say in unison. Needless to say, the kids love him.

 

Twenty minutes later everyone manages to get out of the penthouse and another twenty minutes after that Rhys and Jack are alone.

 

“Do you hear that?” Jack asks as Rhys tidies up.

 

“No, what?”

 

“Sweet, sweet silence,” Jack says, coming up behind Rhys and wrapping his arms around the younger man's waist.

 

Rhys snorts and abandons his work to rest back against Jack. “It's not silence if you interrupt it.”

 

“No I'm pretty sure it's still silence.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to pester [my tumblr](http://thelilybird.tumblr.com/)! I'm always happy to talk! About any and everything! I'm also open to suggestions. Or headcanons. Or anything. Just talk to me.


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